It's often the birds and the bees
That teach us how *** is a breeze,
But had they before
Said it's all metaphor
I would still have my pet parakeets.

I've dragged and I've yanked with my fingers.
My efforts, however, in vain.
Try as I might, to pull backwards the night,
I shan't live that day once again.
The moon gives my fingerprints frostbite.
It's barren and cold with despair.
I wish to return where the sun gently burned
And made glimmer the red of your hair.

More so than celebrities
And more so than the rich,
I would like to find a cat
Whose souls us two may switch.
No more would I work a job,
My life no longer taxed.
Never anxious, no more stress,
Just me, all fat, relaxed.
Food would come quite easily,
I'd simply sit and mew,
Knowing if no humans come
A bird or mouse will do.
In the winter, by the fire,
I would find my home.
In the summer, through the grass
And flowers I would roam.
I would feel so sorry for the
Hudbands and their wives,
Merely just existing while
I live nine perfect lives.

They say you please women with flattery.
The truth did however quite shatter me.
For words have their power,
When trying to 'wow' her,
But less so than double A batteries.

To you, the one I write about.
To you, my old obsession.
To you, whose love I have no doubt
Without would bring depression.
To you, my cosmic concubine,
My supernova rose.
To you, who self-proclaimed they’re mine
Despite that no one knows.
To you, I hold the sweetest thoughts
And toast the sweetest pain.
To you, the girl who, everyday,
I fall for once again.

Hang me from the rings of Saturn.
Beat the stars into my eyes.
Make my screams a supernova,
Spreading over twilit skies.
Grate my skin on lunar craters.
Drown me in the milky way.
Do whatever you deem fit,
Just promise me you'll stay.

I can recall, in the past, with my mother,
How every street was so ripe and alive.
How every sight, every smell, every thing,
Would shimmer and brim and dazzle and thrive.
So, now I ask, as I sit in the dark,
Surrounded and shrouded, unable to see;
Did something change, has something happened,
Or does the problem reside within me?

A rush of satisfaction is
Anticipation dying.
Happiness is merely just
The spaces between crying.
Sober is a waste of time,
And time, a waste of space.
We are people, sick and twisted,
Due to be replaced.
Love exists to make us ****,
The magic is a lie.
Life is less a conquered journey,
More a tired sigh.
Everything we live for is
A system made by man,
Keeping us distracted through
Our lives entire span.

If my life, within my eye,
Should flash before me as I die,
Pain and doubt will turn a blur
As I recall my time with her.

Of all life; devoid and cold,
Onto just one thing I’ll hold.
Though I’ll lie in disrepair,
Fear will fade, for she is there.

You may not have noticed this
But when you kissed me last
Choirs sung out just for me
That your love had amassed.
In the pools of serotonin,
Scattered on the ground,
Glimmered there a mirrored glare
Of something quite profound.
In the sky was rainbow clouds
Of coloured cosmic dust,
Made not from some broken rock
But from eternal lust.
Air that had a tasteless taste
Had turned ambrosial.
Where was anhedonia
Was now an urge to feel.
From our lips our ecstasy
Was weightless, free and pure.
Glowing pink, its smoke would rise
In decadent allure.

Bodies are strewn, one by one, round the room.
All that remains of the casualties here.
All of the victims, perverts and vixens,
Which fell to their instincts, desires and beer.
Recently music had filled air with rhythm,
Masking the retching and ******* the same,
Though rising with sun was the silence, begun
As horizons were setting to flame.

Wading through bodies to go make a drink,
A 6am ***** to freshen the mind.
You scramble and struggle, ignoring the couple
You caught in the kitchen, enjoying a grind.
A smile and a wave, with such sweetness, they gave
And, kindly, they offered some cider.
Approaching the man, you take a warm can
Whilst hoping its not been inside her.

Back to the sofa, a girl has rolled over,
Aeons from sober, you try nudge below her,
Quickly, then slower, with hopes no one knows her,
The types to come over assuming you'll ***** her.
But everything's fine, the coast is all clear.
You soon commandeer, till she falls among beer.
***** turns to smears, but too ****** to hear
Or try interfere, the room sleeps, cohered.

The wait is now on. The coke in your nose
Beginning to burn as you drool on your clothes.
You smoke and you smoke while you cough and you choke,
But it seems with each minute, the time passing slows.
You wack out a notepad, scribble some words,
Draw a few ***** with wings like a bird,
But mostly you sit. Sitting in quiet.
The last one alive in the midst of the riot.

I could write a thousand words
To dedicate to you,
And every single word I wrote
You’d hold no doubt is true.
For every single paragraph,
And every single start,
I’d write for you in no less than
The ink of my own heart.